Page 5 of Unbossly Manners

I rested against the wall, too stunned to move. The table creaked and there was a loud groan.

Fuck. That was not an image I wanted seared in my brain. The company had a relaxed view of inter-office affairs but everything had to be reported to HR, especially if there was a power discrepancy between the parties.

I pushed off the wall, but my watch scraped the metal doorjamb, and the sound vibrated loudly in the quiet space. I froze. Brody’s head swung in my direction, and his eyes locked with mine.

My world tilt-a-whirled, twisting with my earlier encounter with Chip. Kissing, groping, sucking, humiliation.

I scurried away.

I’ll deal with it tomorrow. I’ll make sure Brody wasn’t coerced and that he tells HR.

I jabbed the elevator button, my palms clammy, sweat prickling over my skin despite my crop top and mini-skirt. I yanked at the flimsy fabric. My happy place was in loose joggers and t-shirts, but when I first met Selena she schooled me in fashion and I’ve been sporting tiny tops and pointy nails ever since.

I glanced behind me; Brody hadn’t chased me down. He’d been in a precarious situation. He probably didn’t think running after me with his pants around his ankles would’ve been a practical choice and I was glad for it. I’d seen way too many dicks for one night.

I stared at my phone, willing Selena to text me back. I calculated the time in London. She wouldn’t be up for at least four more hours.

Where could I go? A hotel, but that would be a week’s salary. It was peak season, the middle of summer. There was a sofa in the lounge room but I couldn’t do that with Brody and Isaac here. And what if I got fired for using the office as a lounge? I was still new here. I couldn’t push the boundaries like that.

The screen blurred in front of my tear-filled vision just as the elevator chimed. I stepped forward and slammed into something hard. My heel caught on the space between the elevator and the floor and I stumbled backward, my shoulder slamming into the wall.

“Oomph.”

My fragile state was shaken to the core, and tears dripped down my cheeks as I spiraled into self-loathing.

Can I do nothing fucking right tonight?

“Shit. Are you okay?”

The body I’d slammed into hovered above me, but I kept my chin down, hiding my blotchy face. Pain shot down my arm, and I whimpered. What a clusterfuck this night had turned into.

“I’m fine,” I mumbled, rubbing my shoulder.

My hand came away slick with blood. The skin over my shoulder blade had split open.

“You’re hurt,” a deep male voice said. His hand reached out but I slapped it away.

“I don’t need help.” I shoved past him, but my shoulder screamed in pain and I doubled over, cradling it.

Large hands caught my good arm and steadied me.

“Stop being an idiot and let me help you.”

I snapped my head up in surprise.

Jackson Rhodes was staring at me; his body clad in spandex from head to toe. His brown hair was disheveled and falling over his forehead, his light eyes shining with annoyance and concern. I didn’t know much about him, except that he was the company lawyer and friends with the owners, Isaac Pillon and Derrick Jacques. They’d created the company together two years ago after Isaac and Derrick’s podcast, Missing Girls, exploded.

“I’m not an idiot,” I snapped. “And I don’t need to be saved.”

“Suit yourself.” And he walked away.

three

My eyes flared, and my mind almost exploded. He was leaving me there?

I did basically tell him to fuck off, but what jerk actually did that?

“Hey,” I hollered. Not sure why, since I’d told him to back off.

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